


Christmas in the Middle of Nowhere

by Granger4013



Category: Warehouse 13
Genre: Bering & Wells Holiday Gift Exchange, Christmas Fluff, F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-25
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2019-02-20 09:58:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 12,671
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13144269
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Granger4013/pseuds/Granger4013
Summary: When Myka Bering stumbles to a small town on Christmas Eve with a potentially sick dog in tow, the night takes her in a far different direction than she ever had planned for her holiday, and it's all thanks to H.G. Wells.





	1. Accidentally

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kellsbells](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kellsbells/gifts).



> HAPPY BERING AND WELLS-MAS!!!!  
> A very happy holidays to all you marvelous Nerdsbians out there. I hope that 2018 finds you with more fluff than angst, with a little bit of longing and pining, and a heavy dose of love and feels.  
> Thank you all for being a wonderful gift in the universe!

_Shit…shit…shit._

That one syllable played on a loop through Myka’s mind, a perfect mirror to the rhythm of her tires slowly crunching across the snow that had suddenly and quite unexpectedly blanketed the road between New York and her final destination, a middle of nowhere town in the absolute _middle of nowhere_ of Connecticut. 

She fought to keep her eyes on the road, reminding herself that it would do absolutely no good to end up in a ditch somewhere all because she couldn’t stop glancing in the rearview mirror every two seconds.

A rough sigh, followed by an unmistakable groan emerged from the backseat, drowning out the sound of the radio, the car, Myka’s own thoughts, if only for a few moments. She eyed the road carefully, the snow was letting up. She gripped the wheel tighter with one hand, while angling the other behind her to reach for the big pile of fluff and fur in the backseat. She found what felt like an ear, rubbing the velvety fur between her fingers, murmuring quietly, “We’re almost there…I promise.”

_Shit…shit…shit._

It had started about an hour outside of the city, once the traffic had given way to open roads. At first she had thought Trailer was just trying to get settled, unable to find a good place of comfort in the backseat. He kept standing, panting slightly, before seeming to lie down, only to pop right back up and begin the pattern all over again. Myka told herself it was because they hadn’t had a long car ride in awhile, living in New York City didn’t exactly provide for ample road trip opportunities, but then, once the snow had started falling, the shuffling had turned to sounds of discomfort, followed by the sound of what could only be her dog unpleasantly tossing up his lunch in the backseat of the car. She had pulled over at the nearest rest stop, only mildly concerned at first, Trailer had had problems with motion sickness when he was a puppy, so this behavior wasn’t entirely abnormal and he had perked up once he was out of the car, romping around at the end of his leash in the snow, while Myka cleaned up the backseat and replaced the now soiled blanket she had laid down in the back for him with a fresh one out of the trunk. Trailer had willingly jumped back in the car, seemingly ready for the rest of the drive, and for awhile things had seemed fine, until the same pattern had started again.

So now, here she was still an hour away from where she needed to be, with an apparently sick dog, in the middle of the snow, in the middle of nowhere, on Christmas Eve. 

_Shit…shit…shit._

After another particularly aggressive groan from the backseat, Myka eased off of the highway, onto roads that were more snow-covered than the highway, with the thought in mind that it might just be safest to find a hotel room for the night and try the drive again when the roads were cleared and Trailer’s stomach was feeling a bit more settled. She hadn’t paid any attention to where this particular exit was taking her, until the two-lane highway brought her smack dab into the center of a small town which seemed to have fallen back in time. Twinkle lights glistened from every lamp pole, there were wreaths on every door, and a Christmas tree in the center of town that would have given the one in Rockefeller Center a run for its money. The town square was ringed with small businesses, some still open for the last minute shoppers in need of one final gift or a forgotten ingredient for Christmas dinner. There was a steady stream of people filtering into the church on the opposite side of the square, everyone aglow with apparent Christmas cheer. 

“Where the hell am I?” Myka murmured.  
Her eyes roamed around in desperate search of any sign of a hotel, a bed and breakfast, hell, at this point she figured she’d take an empty stable. If it was good enough for the baby Jesus, she could suffer through a night in the cold, as long as it got her dog’s stomach to calm down. Impulsively, she decided that one road off of the town square was as good as the next, and so took the closest right available to her. She drove a little ways out of town, where the businesses gave way to quaint houses each bedecked in their own elegant Christmas decorations. She was almost ready to give up hope that this particular road was going to provide her any means of hope, when a jarring flash of neon drew her eye.

She actually gasped, certain that she had to have be seeing things. There amongst the houses was a small, brick building with a sign out front declaring it the home of _Wells’ Animal Practice_. A bright blue _OPEN_ sign shone through the quickly coming on darkness. Slamming a bit too hard on the brakes, thus eliciting another sigh and groan from the backseat, Myka turned her car into the driveway where only one other lone car resided. 

In the back of her mind, Myka knew she was probably being foolish; it was motion sickness, that was all. Trailer would be fine once they found somewhere to stay, preferably a hotel that allowed pets, since Myka was in no mood to try and sneak an eighty pound golden retriever past hotel workers who were most likely cranky that they had to work on a holiday. Yet, she had to be sure, and there was a vet _right here_. For a vague moment, Myka felt like she had fallen into one of those horrendously sappy, Hallmark Christmas movies where everything happens with the perfect dash of coincidence to make Christmas magic seem real. Except if that was the case, whatever vet she was about to meet would have to be her soul mate and she was certain that no vet that was open at five o’clock on Christmas Eve was going to be anything close to her type. Sweet, seventy year old men who aren’t ready to retire yet might work for some people, but she was not one of them.

Uncertainly, Myka knocked on the door, before tentatively trying to knob, feeling it turn freely under her palm, the small jingle of a bell ringing over her head to properly announce her entrance. 

A lilting voice caught Myka off guard as it echoed from the back of what appeared to be a converted house, “One moment.” So much for sweet, seventy year old men, Myka thought, because the voice was most certainly that of a woman, a woman who sounded distinctly British. The soft sound of steps coming down the hall announced the arrival of the voice’s owner before she emerged herself.

For the second time in less than ten minutes, Myka involuntarily gasped, though this time was starkly more embarrassing since it didn’t exactly go unnoticed by the person who elicited such a reaction. Where Myka had been expecting some near retirement age veterinarian with graying temples, instead a woman of about her own age stood in front of her, a woman who might have been the most startling beautiful woman Myka had ever seen. 

The corner of the woman’s lips quirked in a quick smirk, before falling into a more graceful, welcoming smile, “Can I help you?”

Myka let out a small sigh of relief that this woman, this _saint_ of a woman whose veterinary practice was still open this late on a holiday, was going to ignore Myka’s utterly embarrassing reaction to her appearance. Myka gestured towards Trailer who was happily, and seemingly _healthily_ , sniffing every corner of the waiting room with reckless abandon before diving headfirst into a water bowl that was sitting out and drinking contentedly. She let out a self-deprecating chuckle, “So, obviously my dog seems totally fine.” Trailer’s head perked up at Myka’s voice, his ears twitching in playful acknowledgement of her gaze, before returning to the task at hand of drinking the bowl dry. Myka sighed, gesturing vaguely behind her towards the door, “I’m sorry, I know it’s Christmas Eve, but your sign was on and the door was open, and well, we’ve been driving all afternoon from New York and he’s thrown up twice and just seemed _really_ unsettled, and he’s had some trouble with motion sickness in the past, so I’m sure that’s what it is, but like I said, I was driving by and there was your sign and I just felt like…”

“You needed to check,” the vet nodded with a soft smile. She shot a small wink Myka’s way, “I figured I’d finish that sentence for you and give you a second to breathe.”

Myka felt her cheeks flush, “Sorry…God, I’m sure I sound like some crazy person. _Help, my dog doesn’t seem to be enjoying his car ride!_ ”

“You don’t sound crazy, you sound like nine out of ten people who walk through that door on a daily basis, who simply love their pets. Trust me, you’re fine.” The vet gestured towards a coat rack in the corner, “Why don’t you take off your coat, and let’s get this handsome gent into the back for a quick check.”

Without encouragement, Trailer padded up to the vet, sniffing around her shoes, before sitting squarely in front of her, tail wagging happily. 

The vet chuckled warmly, kneeling down next to him and rubbing softly behind his ears, “Well, hello there. You are quite friendly, aren’t you?”

Trailer nudged his nose into her palm causing Myka to let out a breathy laugh, “Sorry, he’s a little…forward.”

“Oh, he’s fine. _More than fine_.” The vet scratched down Trailer’s neck, “What’s your name, handsome?”

“Trailer.” Myka answered as she hung her coat up, her hand unconsciously coming up to palm her neck. She had no idea _why_ she felt nervous, but she was most distinctly _nervous_.

“Trailer? How very unique.” The vet stood grasping Trailer’s leash lightly, “Well, Trailer let’s get you back here and see what the trouble is.”

Myka followed behind them, suddenly painfully aware of the fact that she was in a grubby pair of jeans, chosen purely for their comfort while driving, and that her curls were going to be a riotous mess once she pulled her beanie off of her head. Quickly, she tugged it off, self-consciously running her hands through them in some vain effort to tame them before the vet, the utterly, fucking, gorgeous vet, looked at her again. 

They went into an exam room, where Trailer immediately upon seeing the jar of biscuits on the counter, plopped his front paws on the edge of the counter with a loud bark. 

“Trailer! Down!” Myka sought to find a commanding tone, but couldn’t quite muster it, too relieved that he seemed to be coming back to himself now that he was once again out of the car. 

The vet laughed heartily, extracting a biscuit from the jar, eyeing Myka quickly, “May I?”

Myka nodded, “Sure…if he’s hungry…that has to be a good thing, right?” She couldn’t help the hope that crept in her voice, though she knew that there was still an undertone of worry in it.

“It is.” The vet let Trailer nab the biscuit from her hand, and then promptly dusted her hand against her white coat, extending it to Myka, “I’m so sorry, I should have introduced myself. I’m Dr. Wells.” She grimaced slightly, a small crease emerging between her eyebrows, “I’m sorry, that sounds so terribly formal. H.G. You can call me H.G.”

Myka fought back the urge to either laugh or let her jaw drop while she shook the proffered hand, “Your name is _H.G. Wells?_ ”

The grimace faded into an endeared, slightly embarrassed smile, “Yes, familial heritage, I suppose. My father is a descendant, and well, I am one in a line of many H.G.’s amongst my family tree.”

Now Myka finally let her jaw drop, “You’re related to H.G. Wells? Like _War of the Worlds, The Time Machine_ , H.G. Wells?”

“Guilty as charged.”

“That’s….that’s amazing.” Myka couldn’t keep the awe from her voice.

A delicate eyebrow arched accompanied by the hint of a satisfied smile, “I’m impressed, most people either tend to have no clue who I am talking about or just seem to think it’s not terribly interesting.”

“How can someone _not_ find that interesting? _How_ can someone _not know who H.G. Wells is?_ ”

Dancing, musical laughter filled the small exam room, “Well, not everyone can be as sophisticated and amazing as the two of us apparently.”

“That’s extremely accurate.” Suddenly, Myka realized that she had gotten so wrapped up in the conversation that she had completely forgotten to introduce herself. Her teeth chased over the corner of her mouth, “Sorry, I’m Myka, by the way, of absolutely no relation to anyone of any remote consequence.”

“Oh I doubt that’s true,” H.G. shot another playful wink Myka’s way, drawing another burst of embarrassing color into Myka’s cheeks.

From the area of H.G.’s knees, a bark resounded against the walls, Trailer lifting up a paw to pat at her leg. She let out a soft chuckle, kneeling down to scratch Trailer’s neck, “I’m sorry, darling, are we ignoring you?”

“He’s rather persistent.”

“I can see that…and _hear_ it.” H.G. continued to pet Trailer while encouraging him to get onto the exam table which was level with the ground. She turned to Myka once he was up, “You might want to come hold him, some dogs get a little skittish when this thing starts moving upwards.”

Myka stepped up to Trailer’s side, hooking a couple of fingers inside his collar to hold him steady, while running his ear between the fingers of her other hand, an action that she knew tended to calm him. 

H.G.’s demeanor shifted into one of steady focus, glancing at Myka, while running her hands along Trailer’s ribs and stomach, “So, you said he seemed to be having trouble with motion sickness?”

“Yeah, it used to be a big problem when he was a puppy, but he seemed to grow out of it, but then again, that was when I also moved to the city and we stopped going for car rides, so maybe it was still there, he just hadn’t been in the car in so long…”

“Other than the _obvious_ issues with his stomach, was there anything else abnormal about his behavior? Any other apparent symptoms?”

“No,” Myka shook her head, “I mean, he never seemed to be able to find a comfortable position to lay down in, but that could be the motion sickness too. The few times we stopped and he got outside he perked right back up, and of course, he seems fine now, so I’m sure I’m _completely_ overreacting.”

“Not at all, much better to be precautious, especially if he hasn’t acted this way much recently.” H.G. took out a stethoscope, pausing quietly to listen to Trailer’s lungs and his heartbeat. She went through the regular routine of a check-up, checking things that Myka knew most likely had nothing to do with Trailer’s stomach, but nonetheless she appreciated the diligence and care H.G. was taking. Eventually, H.G.’s shoulders relaxed and she ran a playful hand through the hair along Trailer’s back, “Well, nothing seems out of sorts and given his behavior when you arrived, sniffing around, drinking healthily, plus his penchant for wanting snacks, I think your initial assessment was the correct one. Motion sickness can put a dog completely out of sorts, but then they tend to rebound quickly.”

Immediately, Myka felt the tension seep out of her shoulders, a breath of relief flooding out of her lungs, “So he’s ok?”

H.G. smiled warmly, a hint of assurance behind it, “He seems completely perfect to me. He’s clearly well loved.”

“That’s a vet’s polite way of saying spoiled.”

“Once again, guilty as charged,” Helena said, but the smile that accompanied it said her assessment of Myka and Trailer’s relationship was far from a critical one. Once again, her demeanor shifted subtly, quickly, “I would ask you though, do you have much further to drive this evening?”

“Still about an hour, but I don’t _have_ to get there tonight. I mean, I’d most likely be saying goodbye to my reservation since it’s a holiday, but if you don’t think he should travel…”

H.G. gave a non-committal shrug of her shoulders, “I’m going to give you some motion sickness medicine that usually works well for dogs, and I would feel horrendous for you to miss out on your holiday plans…”

“ _However_ , you think he needs to stay put for a bit.”

“I think it would be best to let him rest for the night, let his body return to some sort of baseline level of comfort. It will also give him a chance to get more water in his system and some food that he might have a chance of keeping down.”

“Then that’s what I’ll do.” Myka placed a kiss to the bridge of Trailer’s nose, “Whatever keeps him happy and healthy. I don’t have to be anywhere until the 26th anyway so I can take a day.”

“Wonderful. Now,” H.G. began to lower the exam table slowly, “why don’t you both head back out to the waiting room and I’ll go and get you that medication.”

As Myka waited for H.G. to return, she felt a palpable sense of relief at how contented Trailer once again seemed. He had curled up across her feet, but his head was still held up sniffing at the air around him with obvious, playful attention. Once her thoughts were no longer weighed down with worry, however, it gave her brain far too open of an opportunity to think about the woman who quite honestly felt like a Christmas miracle. Embarrassingly, Myka’s mouth went completely dry, a warmth spreading through her stomach as she thought about the way her laughter had echoed in the room, the way she had playfully winked at her. It seemed wickedly and wildly unfair that it had taken her dog needing a vet in the middle of absolute nowhere for her to run into a woman like this, and wildly unfair that this was most likely the first and only time she would ever see this woman.

H.G. emerged from the back, medication in hand and a bright smile on her face. She handed over the box to Myka, “The instructions are on there, but one pill, which you can slip into a treat if he doesn’t like taking pills dry, about an hour before you get back in the car, and he should be right as rain.”

“Thank you so much, I cannot thank you enough, honestly.”

“It was my pleasure. I’m glad I decided to stay open this evening, I usually close early on holidays, but something told me to stay a little longer, despite have let the rest of my staff go hours ago.”

“You have been a life saver, truly.” Awkwardly, Myka fumbled with her purse, knowing far too well what vet visits, _plus_ medication cost. “What…”

She didn’t even get a chance to finish her sentence.

“Do not concern yourself with that, please. It was my pleasure.”

“No, I mean it’s _Christmas Eve_ , you should be charging me double.”

H.G. chuckled, “True. Well, if that’s the case, you owe me whatever _zero_ doubled is.”

Myka shook her head, “At least let me pay you for the medicine, that can’t be on the house.”

“Ah, but it can, please, consider it a Christmas gift.”

Myka sighed, at a complete loss, “You have to let me give you something.”

There was a slight pause, H.G.’s forehead furrowed in mild consideration. Eventually, a look of realization dawned across her face and she arched an eyebrow Myka’s way, her mouth curling once again into a subtle smirk, “Fine, I will acquiesce. If you insist on paying me somehow, have dinner with me tonight.”

Myka’s eyes widened slightly, her cheeks flushing for what felt like the thousandth time that night, “Oh…oh, yeah, sure, absolutely.”

“Well seeing as _it is_ Christmas Eve and you suddenly find yourself not at your chosen holiday destination, the least I can do is make sure you have a proper holiday meal.”

“You say it that way and it once again sounds like you’re giving _me_ something, rather than me giving you something in gratitude for taking care of my dog.”

“Trust me, darling,” H.G. smiled sweetly, “dinner is payment enough. Give me a few minutes to gather my things and we can be on our way.”

Nerves cascaded into Myka’s stomach, replacing the warmth that had been residing there. Self-consciously she looked down at what she was wearing, she was in _no way, shape, or form_ dressed for a Christmas dinner out with this woman, this woman who, even in her white doctor’s coat, looked goddamn immaculate. 

She didn’t have time to contemplate her appearance further, because H.G. emerged right at that second coat draped over her arm and a stack of file folders in the crook of her elbow, “Shall we?”

It was only once they got outside, with the sharpness of the air hitting her lungs that Myka realized the complication of their current situation. “Shit…” She looked apologetically at H.G., “I…I kind of need to go find a hotel room so that I have some place to take Trailer before dinner. Can I meet you somewhere?”

An embarrassed sort of half smile graced H.G.’s face, “Please feel free to say no to this offer, and _do not_ say yes because you feel some sort of obligation to do so given our circumstances, but I do live just next door,” she gestured vaguely to a beautiful, cozy, Christmas lit house to their left. “If you want, you’re welcome to leave Trailer there, assuming he’s ok with other dogs. I just have one, he’s about Trailer’s size, and very friendly. He might be more comfortable in a house with furniture he’s welcome to climb all over and toys to play with, rather than an unfamiliar hotel room.”

Myka gaped a bit at the extremely generous offer. Why on earth was this woman being so nice to her? _Because it’s Christmas_ , she told herself. _Because she’s hitting on you_ , her subconscious wishfully thought. Myka strove to find her footing, smiling brightly, “Yeah, sure, that is extremely nice of you, because you’re right, he would be miserable at a hotel.”

“Aces!” H.G. smiled brightly, turning quickly and leading the way to her front walk. 

Quickly, Myka took another assessment of her clothes, calling out, “One sec! Just…let me grab my bag out of the car. If we’re going to dinner, I need to change my clothes; I am not fit for public eyes.”

H.G. glanced over her shoulder with a wicked smile, “I would beg to differ on that front, but that would be rather bold of me to say, I suppose.”

“ _Jesus Christ…_ ” Myka muttered under her breath as she turned towards her car, her heart beating erratically in her chest. Somehow this Christmas was _not_ turning out as she planned, but she was starting to not particularly mind.

**

The first thought that ran through Myka’s mind when she walked into H.G.’s house was, _I never thought someone could have more books than I do._ The second was that if Trailer could read her thoughts, he would hate her for life, because she was staring at forty pounds of the most adorable, tri-colored, fluff of a dog she had ever seen, _besides_ Trailer. 

“Dickens…be nice,” H.G. said with some combination of sweetness and command in her voice.

Dickens, H.G.’s dog apparently, after making a thorough examination of Myka’s knees, immediately approached Trailer with as a polite sniff and a tiny bark. Myka knelt down, feeling H.G. do the same next to her, both of them keeping their distance to let the dogs figure their own way out, but remaining close enough to intervene if necessary. After a few moments of sniffing and circling, Dickens scampered down the hallway, returning quickly with a squeaky toy in his mouth that he promptly dropped at Trailer’s feet.

H.G. laughed with pleasure, “Well, I think these two are going to be just fine.”

Myka’s laughter mixed and mingled with H.G.’s as she watched Trailer follow after Dickens down the hall, toy squeaking animatedly in his mouth. She eyed H.G. with a teasing smile, “Dickens, huh?”

H.G. raised a delicate eyebrow, somehow in question and defiance. Her eyes roamed the bookshelves that lined the entranceway, “Given the look of this hallway, is the name a particular shock?”

“No,” Myka chuckled, fingers tracing carefully over the nearest spines. “I never thought I’d meet someone whose collection rivaled my own.” She shot H.G. a smirk, “I’m impressed.”

“I rarely find someone who finds it anything other than odd, therefore, I too, am _quite_ impressed.” H.G.’s eyes darted a clock on the wall and grimaced, “Bollocks, we should probably get ready…”

Myka’s brow furrowed in confusion, “Did you have a reservation on the off-chance someone stumbled into your practice tonight?”

An unreadable look raced across H.G.’s face. It almost looked like _guilt_ , but it was gone before Myka could read it properly, replaced by the look of quiet determination and underlying flirtation that Myka was beginning to realize was simply this woman’s baseline setting. H.G.’s smirk slid back into place, “No, but I thought we might go into the city and it is a bit of a drive. If we delay, traffic might get a little out of hand.”

“Of course. Umm,” Myka awkwardly held up her bag, “is there somewhere I can change?”

“There is a bathroom down the hall to the right. I’ll just pop upstairs, and then we can be on our way.”

**

Myka tried desperately to get her hair tamed into some sort of respectable tangle. She sighed, looking the mirror, “To hell with it. Hopefully the restaurant will be dark.” Her eyes strayed into her bag. _That would seem like a bit much. It would scream desperation. The woman asked you to dinner on Christmas Eve, put the fucking makeup on, Bering._ She rolled her eyes at herself in the mirror, “It’s a holiday, there is nothing wrong in wanting to look nice…presentable.” Hot. Desirable..

“Oh this was such a bad idea…” she mumbled, swiping on a layer of lipstick.

**

_Thank God I put on makeup._  
Holy fuck…she looks hot.  
Close your mouth. Stop staring.  
Fuck. 

Myka gave her head a small shake, turning her attention to where Trailer was curled up next to Dickens on the couch, anything to keep her eyes away from H.G. who had descended the stairs in a ridiculously tight, ridiculously attractive black dress, her hair delicately swooped across one shoulder, her makeup flawless. In a matter of ten minutes, this woman had gone from white-coated vet to utter bombshell, leaving Myka’s head spinning. 

“Well, they’ve gotten comfortable.” H.G. nodded her head towards the dogs.

Myka barely had enough rational space left in her brain to realize that H.G. had said anything. She stumbled over her words briefly, before eventually getting a response out. “Yeah, I’m not sure I’ve ever seen Trailer settle in like this before. He must be feeling better.”

“Do you think they’ll be fine while we’re gone?” It seemed less a real concern of H.G.’s and more as though she was asking to make sure that _Myka_ was sure.

Myka nodded, “Given that they’re already sleeping nose to nose, I think they’ll be perfect. Thank you again for this…you really didn’t have to.”

“ _You_ didn’t have to agree to have dinner with me, so no thanks needed. Now, shall we?”

**

“So, where do you have to be on the 26th?”

The question came out of nowhere, pulling Myka up short, keeping her from answering immediately. They’d been driving for maybe fifteen minutes in silence, not awkward or uncomfortable silence, just _silence_ and it had been causing Myka to wonder how they were going to make it through dinner if they chose to just _not talk_ the rest of the evening.

_Words, Myka. Talk._

“Oh, umm, I have to meet my boss in Riverton. He’s spending the holiday there with his family at their cabin, but these pages are still due and I volunteered so no one else had to miss their own Christmases and so here I am. Wow…silence to rambling in point two seconds. I’m sorry.”

“I’m beginning to wonder how many times this evening I’m going to have to tell you to stop apologizing.”

“Probably quite a few. Sorry.” Myka laughed self-consciously, “Clearly a few more times.”

“Amidst the rambling, which I _do not mind_ by the way, you mentioned pages. Are you a writer?”

Myka’s self-deprecatig laughter grew, “ _No_ , I’ve always wanted to be, but no. I’m an editor at a publishing house in the city.”

“Well that explains the impressive book collection you alluded to.”

“Hazards of the job, hazards of growing up in a bookstore.”

H.G. shot her a somewhat stunned look before quickly returning her eyes to the road, “You grew up in a bookstore?”

“Technically _above_ one, but I spent more time in the store than in my room so it equaled out. My parents own a bookstore in Colorado, always have.”

“That sounds…idyllic.”

Myka fought back a sigh, fought back words that she really didn’t need to share with a stranger on Christmas Eve, “It had its moments.”

“So, what brought you to the city? Colorado to New York City seems like a bit of a jump.”

“Job offer from the publishing house; I got damn lucky right out of college. It meant leaving home, but it also meant pursuing my dream, so despite how much it pissed my parents off that I was leaving, how clearly it spelled out for them that I wasn’t going to take over at the store, I did it anyway.” _So much for not saying things to strangers on Christmas Eve._

“Determined woman, I like that,” H.G. smirked.

“Stubborn, determined, pick your adjective I suppose.”

“Stick with determined, it suits you.”

“Pegged me after an hour of knowing me, huh? Bold.”

H.G.’s smile widened, “I have been told that bold is the _perfect_ adjective for me. Apparently, I’m not the only one who has pegged the other quickly.”

A soft warmth seeped from Myka’s chest into her stomach. She usually wasn’t this _comfortable_ in social settings, let alone social settings that were so entirely _new_ and wholly _unexpected_. First dates usually found her fumbling and a little nervous, but with H.G., she just felt at ease. _Maybe that’s because this isn’t a date._ She shook away the thought and steered the conversation away from herself, from revealing one too many things too quickly, seeking to even the playing field, “How long have you been a vet?”

“Almost ten years. I joined the practice right out of graduate school. I had done an internship there with a dear mentor, and when he retired a few years ago, I took over the practice.”

“I’m going to steal one of your lines here, but England to Connecticut…seems like quite a jump.”

H.G. laughed warmly, “Indeed. We moved here when I was thirteen. My father got a job offer that he couldn’t quite refuse, and we’ve all been here since, just haven’t been able to shake the accent.”

Their conversation continued like that for the next half hour, ebbing and flowing between personal anecdotes and casual commentary on meaningless things. Myka found herself saying things she rarely _if ever_ said to people she had just met, talking about her parents, about life in Colorado, about wanting to write. She had no idea _how_ , but somehow this vet from the middle of nowhere had cracked her open without even trying, all in a matter of minutes. 

As the mile markers continued to declare their growing nearness to Hartford, Myka noticed that H.G. became seemingly more distracted, eyes darting back and forth between Myka and the road. She grew quieter, taking longer to answer questions and respond in kind. Eventually, Myka couldn’t stop herself from asking, “Are you alright?”

Myka watched as H.G.’s teeth flashed out and chased over the corner of her lip, felt the car slow down as her foot eased off the accelerator despite still being on the highway. H.G. heaved a deep sigh, “Seeing as we’re only ten minutes away, I suppose I should stop stalling…”

Nerves ricocheted through Myka’s stomach. _What the hell was happening?_ Her tongue fought to wrap around the appropriate words, “What exactly are you stalling about?”

“It’s possible… H.G. cleared her throat roughly, “it’s possible that I wasn’t entirely transparent in my intentions of asking you to dinner tonight.”

_Oh God…this is where it goes from Hallmark movie to slasher horror._

Myka fought to keep her voice steady, to not convey the panic that was exploding through her neurons, “Ok…well, are we actually going to dinner?”

“Oh yes,” H.G. said hastily. “It’s only that...we aren’t exactly going to a restaurant…” Her words died off, unable to finish the sentence.

“So where are we going?” Myka prodded.

H.G. grimaced deeply, “My parents’ house.”


	2. On Purpose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Let's see where this dinner goes shall we?

“ _What?_ ” The word flew out of Myka’s mouth before she could stop it.

“I know, I know, and now I am the one that must apologize. I am so sorry, Myka. I saw…I saw an opportunity to get out of a horrendously dreadful evening, but by doing so I’ve put you in a terrible position. It’s just that…I don’t see my parents as often as I should, mostly because my mother likes to use every opportunity she can when she sees me to comment on the state of my life, particularly my _woeful state of singlehood._ She has never quite appreciated that a woman can be content with her work and her dog and simply decide to see where love or the lack thereof finds her. However, I can’t exactly dodge out of Christmas Eve dinner, and my brother and his _gorgeous, perfect_ wife, whom I adore, are going to be there, and she’s six months pregnant, and my brother’s life is…well, it’s going according to mother’s plan, and I just couldn’t face the thought of an entire evening spent being reminded of how my life is very much _not_. Again, I am so sorry for the imposition and now the reciprocated rambling.”

It took Myka a second to find her footing, but when she did, the one word that escaped her lips surprised her almost as much as it surprised H.G. “Ok.”

H.G. looked at her, stunned, “Ok?”

“Yeah, ok. I mean…let’s just say I know a little bit about life like that. Hell, there’s a reason why I’m driving up to meet my boss over Christmas rather than being home in Colorado.”

“I confess I wondered about that, but didn’t want to be so bold as to ask, despite my inclination to boldness which we’ve already covered.”

“Well, seeing as we’re about to dive in headfirst to the boldness tank, might as well just get it all out there. I’m here and not at home, home being Colorado _and_ the city, because I broke up with my girlfriend a couple of months ago, and, well, it hasn’t exactly been smooth sailing. My mother too thought that my life would take a certain path, and if I wasn’t going to take over the store, she at least hoped I would settle down and give her a few grandkids rather than working myself to death. God bless her, her and my dad, they didn’t care if I was with a man or a woman, they just cared that I was with _someone_. They were needlessly devastated when Abigail and I split up, despite my having _very good reasons_ to end it. Their reaction has been a bit…exaggerated, and I just couldn’t face an entire holiday home being harangued about it. Believe it or not, I too have a perfect sibling with the perfect life, except mine’s a sister and I just didn’t think I could survive the exhaustion of paling in comparison.”

“I’m sorry,” H.G. said, a bit breathlessly, “for your break-up, for, well…for everything.”

“How about we just make a pact to stop apologizing for the night?” Myka chuckled absently.

“Accepted, although…Myka, what I’m asking, it’s a huge imposition.”

Spurred to her own sense of boldness, one that she rarely tapped into, Myka reached across and laid a hand carefully on H.G.’s knee, “It’s not….I mean…ok…it kind of is, but I’m telling you, I’m in.”

H.G. shook her head forcefully, “I can drop you off somewhere, somewhere where you can have a lovely dinner, _on me_ , and then I can pick you up after.’

Myka squeezed H.G.’s knee, “There’s no way that’s happening, not now, not after what you’ve told me. I’m invested now.”

“Invested?”

“Yes, in insuring that you survive this dinner in one piece, without too much motherly interference.”

“You’re sure?”

“Stubbornly sure.”

Delicately, H.G. laid a hand across Myka’s giving it a light squeeze, “Thank you, Myka.”

“No thanks needed. You saved me and my dog tonight, I owe you one. So, how long do we have to set up a little back story?”

“Roughly ten minutes.”

“Perfect.”

“Maybe this can give you inspiration for that future novel.” H.G.’s smile was tentative, guarded, as though she still wasn’t convinced Myka was going to jump out of the moving vehicle on her.

“Believe me, I’m taking mental notes. Alright, how long have we been together?”

H.G. let out the breath she had apparently been holding, “Three months? It’s a suitable length of time to justify bringing you to a holiday dinner, but also not long enough to make it seem impossible that I haven’t told my parents about you.”

“Ok, three months it is. How’d we meet?”

“Not that I have a wealth of experience in this area, but it would seem as though in this situation staying as close to the truth as possible seems best.”

“Alright, basically what happened tonight, I stumbled into your practice because I was worried about my dog, only it didn’t happen tonight, it happened three months ago. Simple, and fairly honest. What are your parents’ names? Your brother’s name? Those seem like things I would know if we’ve been together for a few months.”

“True. My mother’s name is Sarah, she’s been a housewife her whole life, but she does gads of volunteer work, hospital fundraisers, food drives, that sort of thing. My father, Joseph, is a civil engineer, with a penchant for gardening. My brother’s name is Charles, he is painfully insufferable, _also_ an engineer like my father, and I love him like mad, despite the fact that he drives me bonkers.” She drew in a deep breath, “Are you going to be able to remember all of this? I feel as though I’m throwing an encyclopedia of facts at you.”

Myka smiled, “Fun fact you should know about me, _your girlfriend_ , I have an eidetic memory. Keep the facts going, I’ll remember.”

“Bloody hell, so I have no chance of you ever forgetting the night when a random woman basically kidnapped you and forced you to have dinner with her family. Marvelous.”

“There was no chance of me ever forgetting this, perfect memory or not. Come on, we’re almost out of time. What about your brother’s wife?”

“Zoe, and as I said, she’s expecting their first child, a little girl, due in March.”

“Good month, that’s when my birthday is.”

“Date?”

“The 31st. When is yours?”

“September 21st. Jesus, this is like speed dating.”

“Trust me, this is _infinitely_ more enjoyable than speed dating,” Myka said, causing H.G. to throw her a shocked, disbelieving look, accompanied by a bemused smile. Myka chuckled, “Long story involving my best friend, Pete, who is a topic that is much more inclined to second date material. He is…a lot to take in.”

“Does he work with you?”

“God help me, yes. Thankfully, he words a couple of floors down in the art department, but it doesn’t keep him from driving me insane on a daily basis. What about you? Friends?”

H.G. laughed softly, “A few, who also drive me quite mad. Claudia, who is a tech at the clinic, her boyfriend, Fargo, _Douglas_ , but we all call him Fargo, and Steve, whom I have known since high school.”

“Claudia, Fargo, which is weird…”

“Last name.”

“Ah, ok, makes more sense, and Steve. Alright, on my end, Pete, Leena, and Kelly, Pete’s girlfriend. We all work together.”

They had exited off of the highway and were making their way through a residential area littered with colossal homes. Myka eyed them in wonder, at least _six_ of her apartments would fit into one of these, probably more like _ten_. H.G.’s family must have been…Myka couldn’t think of a better word beyond loaded. She forced the thought away, willing herself to focus on the task at hand, “How do we deal with the fact that I live in the city and you’re up here?”

“Alternate weekends?”

“As good of a solution as any.”

“It has to be,” H.G. said, nervousness biting through her words, “because we’re here.” She pulled into a looping driveway, which curved in front of an immaculate brick house, two-stories tall, with candles in each wreath-bedecked window. 

“It’s beautiful,” Myka practically cooed.

“It’s a behemoth, but yes, it is quite stunning and it’s home.” H.G. put the car in park and turned to Myka quickly. Myka could see the hesitation, the fear dancing in her eyes. H.G. chewed the corner of her lip, “Myka, are you sure?”

“I am _positive._ ”

“You are a life-saver, I hope you know that.”

“Right back at ya. Now, we should probably get in there or I would imagine they will find it odd that you’re stalling.”

H.G. sighed, “Quite right, but first…” She dipped a hand into her purse and pulled out a leather wrapped flask.

Laughter involuntarily fled Myka’s lungs, “Are you serious?”

“Absolutely,” Helena said before taking a rather large pull from the container. She handed it to Myka, “It can’t hurt, right?”

“I’m not sure that’s _entirely_ true, but sure, let’s go with it.” She took the proffered flask and took her own significantly larger than planned drink. She sputtered a bit, “Wow…what is that?”

“Whiskey, darling. Now, are we ready?”

“As we’ll ever be, I think.”

Spurred on by the warmth of the whiskey now spreading tendrils out from her stomach through her bloodstream, Myka tentatively slipped her hand in H.G.’s, as they walked up the porch steps. She wasn’t sure what made her do it, the whiskey or just the sheer desire to _do it_ , but in the end she justified the action by the fact that they needed to _sell this_ , and she figured they both could use the assurance. 

Gratefully, H.G. gave her palm a light squeeze before turning to Myka suddenly with a look of panic. “Helena,” she blurted.

“What?” 

“Helena, my name is Helena. It’s what my family calls me, and it would be viewed as extremely odd if my girlfriend didn’t as well.”

“Oh, ok, Helena, got it.” Myka nodded, processing this last little tidbit of information. She turned to Helena, letting another pulse of pressure pass between their hands, “That’s…that’s a beautiful name.”

Helena’s cheeks flushed, “Thank you.”

A small beat, a mere few seconds of just looking at each other in apparent contentment passed between them before Myka realized she had made the same mistake as Helena. She palmed her forehead, “Oh…shit…I forgot too, my _last name_. Bering. Myka Bering.”

Helena shook her head, “This is insane.”

“Yes, but _Helena_ , we can do this.”

Rolling her eyes despairingly, Helena sighed, “You, Myka Bering, are indeed quite stubborn.”

“Honestly? That’s probably all you need to know about me to survive tonight.”

“Duly noted,” Helena smirked before pressing a finger against the doorbell.

**

The initial onslaught of questions from Helena’s family at their arrival was at once completely overwhelming, but also enough of a dive into the deep end to somehow make the whole thing feel normal. With each answer to the next question, the story of their apparent relationship wove together. Somehow, they found themselves capable of filling in little details that made the whole thing seem _plausible_. Myka found herself astounded that at each turn, she and Helena seemed to be on the same page. Helena never said something that Myka would have found out of character for somehow she would be dating. In fact, she found herself almost _wishing_ as each second passed that this wasn’t a farce, but something with the potential to be real.

_Don’t go down that road, Bering. It’s pointless. This was an even trade. She helped you out, now you’re helping her out, nothing more, nothing less._

“So, three months you’ve been together and you didn’t feel the need to mention this at all, Helena?” It was a question asked without any amount of warmth, it wasn’t even asked with any amount of eye contact. Helena’s mother had simply asked the question as if to her dinner plate, her full concentration remaining on the precise cuts her knife was making to the piece of roast in front of her. 

It hadn’t taken long for Myka to realize just exactly why Helena had asked her to do this. From the moment they walked in, Helena’s mother had been nothing but cold, almost calculating with Helena, each question, each gesture seemed to be laced with some sort of ulterior motive or hidden meaning. Nothing was said with support, nothing asked out of mere curiosity, everything seemed designed to walk Helena right into some sort of setup about how she wasn’t doing what her mother wanted with her to do with her life. It only made Myka all the more determined to _make this work_ , because despite the fact that she’d only known Helena for a few hours, she knew for damn certain that she didn’t deserve this. No one did.

Myka watched as Helena reached for her wine glass carefully, opting to give herself time to compose herself before answering. Myka used the opportunity to slip her hand under the table, subtly placing it against Helena’s knee with a tender squeeze. She took a deep breath and chose to save Helena from the question as best she could, “We both decided that was maybe for the best considering that we knew attempting a new relationship that was semi-long distance would be difficult and we wanted to be sure of things before mentioning it to anyone.”

Helena’s mother actually looked up from her plate then, one eyebrow arched in recrimination. In the back of her mind, Myka realized that was where Helena got that particular mannerism, though when Helena did it, it was playful, teasing, _attractive_ , nothing like this. “Does that mean you haven’t told _your family_ about Helena then?”

Myka returned the cold stare with as warm of a smile as she could muster, “We were actually just talking about that in the car. I’m going to Colorado in a few weeks for my niece’s birthday, and Helena may come with me so she can meet them, since _no_ , I haven’t told them either.”

“It seems awfully _secretive_. How is that a good way to start a relationship?”

Myka bristled a bit at the tone being thrown her way, at how she could feel it was making the muscles in Helena’s thigh clench with tension. She continued to project nothing but sweetness despite her annoyance, “It’s let us figure things out without any pressure, I guess. If it was just us who knew and it didn’t work out, well then, it didn’t work out and we could both move on.” Myka shrugged slightly, catching the way Helena’s whole body seemed rigid with frustration out of the corner of her eye. Feeling emboldened by the inquisition and a hefty dose of several glasses of wine, she leaned over and placed a kiss to Helena’s cheek, “Plus, it’s been kind of nice, it just being the two of us for the beginning.”

That incriminating eyebrow remained arched, seemingly poised for the next question, but Helena’s father stepped in quickly, clearly as put off by the conversational vein of his wife as the rest of them were. His booming voice, which dripped kindness and geniality, filled the room, “So, Myka, tell us about your job. A life amongst books! Sounds heavenly to me.”

Myka’s smile shifted into something entirely genuine, “It is. I mean, yeah, some days, it’s extremely stressful with deadlines and authors who aren’t particularly happy to have their words sliced to bits, but for the most part, I love it.”

“Myka’s parents own a bookstore in Denver, actually,” Helena interjected.

“Do they really?” Helena’s father’s enthusiasm and curiosity practically vibrated off of him.

“They do. My dad has built quite a lovely little niche market in the city. It’s not a big store by any means, and it’s certainly not going to give Amazon a run for its money any time soon, but he has his loyal customers, and he has things that you can’t always find anywhere else.”

“I would love to see it. Between seeing Helena’s house and our living room, I’m sure you can tell you are amongst fellow book lovers.”

“Absolutely. It was one of the first things that made me fall for Helena in the first place, her love of books.” Myka squeezed Helena’s knee affectionately, barely noticing the ping of panic that went off in her brain that she was maybe revealing _too much_ , allowing herself to get in far deeper than she intended this evening.

“Quite right, I couldn’t imagine being with someone who didn’t love reading as I do.”

“Hel, it’s possible you may have some competition on your hands with Dad there, he might never let Myka leave now.” Helena’s brother shot Helena a playful wink across the table.

“Oh, my dear Charlie, do not be an arse. It’s Christmas.” Helena’s words were laced with teasing affection.

“Indeed,” Charles raised his glass in mock salute. “The perfect time to drink heavily and say inappropriate things to your family.”

“Or bring your girlfriend home unannounced,” Helena’s mother muttered loudly enough for everyone to hear, but thankfully everyone chose to ignore her.

“God help our child that she is going to be raised with you two as examples,” Charles’ wife said with eye roll and a smile, laying a careful hand against her stomach.

“Oh yes, she’s quite doomed. I’m very sorry about that Zoe, but I warned you what marrying him meant,” Helena smirked.

“That you did, and crazy me, I just ignored your warnings.”

“Blinded in equal parts by love and my dashing handsomeness, no doubt.” 

“Something like that,” Zoe smirked.

Helena’s father nudged Myka’s elbow with his own, “Did she warn you what you were getting into with this family? They’re all barking if you ask me. No idea where they get it from.”

“Never from you, I’m sure.”

“No, no, they’re _nothing_ like me at all. I have no idea how they’re even my children.”

Suddenly, Myka’s hand was jerked out from under where it had still been lying against Helena’s thigh. Helena stood quickly, her cheeks were flushed but her voice when she spoke was even, unwilling to show any ounce of discomfort, “Sorry, if you’ll just excuse me for one moment.”

Myka watched as Helena exited the dining room hastily, concern immediately overtaking any other thought that had been in her mind. The mood in the room had shifted on a dime, but she wasn’t sure what had happened.

“Mother, you know that wasn’t necessary.” Charles’ voice, once warm and light-hearted, was piercing, accusatory. Myka had clearly missed something, some cutting remark, some harsh word exchanged.

Helena’s mother returned to her determined focus on dinner, “Necessary or not, I will speak my mind, Charles.”

Myka knew she should keep quiet, not step into what were clearly family issues, but she couldn’t help but feel as though this was her fault, her unexpected presence had unsettled something between Helena and her mother. She cleared her throat carefully, “Mrs. Wells, I’m so sorry my being here was so unexpected. Helena and I just thought…”

“Helena thought she’d do what suited _her_ best, as she always does.”

“Sarah…” The voice of Helena’s father once again overtook the room. He laid a hand against Myka’s, “Myka, darling, you do not apologize. We are thrilled you are here, that you and Hel have found each other, and that you’re happy. What more could we ask for for Christmas?”

Myka smiled at him gratefully, “Thank you, Mr. Wells.”

“Joe, dear. Please call me Joe.”

There was _something_ , something so overwhelming about Joe’s kindness, about the way that Charles had immediately welcomed Myka into the apparently contentedly teasing relationship he had with Helena, that made Myka _want_ to be a part of this in some real way. 

_This isn’t real._

Myka ignored the thought, the stark _reality_ of it, realizing more than anything that she just wanted to make sure that Helena was _ok_. She gave Joe an apologetic smile, pushing away from the table, “I’m just going to go check on, Helena.”

Once she left the dining room she realized what a foolish move this had been since she had _no idea_ where the hell Helena could be in this massive house. She thought she had seen Helena disappear up the staircase that led off the foyer, so she decided that up was her best bet. At the top of the stairs, she was faced with what she was sure was the longest hallway in existence with far more doors than seemed entirely necessary. She didn’t want to knock on all of them, so she figured she’d try the easiest option. “Helena?” Her voice echoed off the walls. She took a few steps down the hall, straining to hear any scrap of noise. She tried again, a little louder, “Helena?”

A few more doors down there was the sound of a knob turning, and Myka saw the faintest light appear through the crack in the barely opened door. Carefully, she slid into what appeared to be Helena’s old room, her bed covered in an old, heavy quilt, the walls plastered with postcards from around the world, an entire wall taken up by book laden shelves. 

Helena was sitting on the edge of the bed, fingers pinched against her nose, eyes intent on the floor.

Lightly, Myka sat down next to her, shifting her hair back and off her shoulder so that Myka could see her. 

_No one’s hair should be that smooth..  
Not the time, Myka._

She laid a hand against the small of Helena’s back, “Are you alright?”

Despairing laughter bit through Helena’s throat, “Murder is probably an unacceptable action on Christmas, right?”

“Generally unacceptable on _any_ occasion, but yes, distinctly _un_ -Christmasy.”

“Somehow I always expect my mother to _not_ be my mother, when she is, in fact, incapable of being anything other than _my mother._ ”

“What did she say?”

“Nothing that bears repeating.”

“Let me guess, something about her glorious plan for your life not including a _woman_ coming home with you?”

Helena turned to Myka utterly stunned, her jaw actually dropped slightly, “How…”

Myka smiled gently, “She thought she covered herself well when we walked in; she didn’t.”

“I’m sorry, Myka…”

“Hey, _nothing_ for you to apologize for.”

Helena ran a hand through her hair, pushing it back from her forehead, in a maneuver that brought Myka precariously close to utter distraction. Helena sighed, “My mother…has always felt that bisexuality was a phase, if it was even _real_ …”

“ _God…_ ”

“Oh yes, she’s one of those lovely people. Anyway, she just figured that when I brought someone home it would be a _man_. Clearly, I live to disappoint.”

“Or to be boldly defiant and live the life you want.”

“Caught that part of my personality, have you?” Helena smirked with a hint of sadness.

Myka shrugged, “Just a bit.”

Helena shook her head, “I don’t know why I thought bringing you into this was a good idea. I’m so sorry, Myka. This is not how you should be spending your holiday.”

“I am exactly where I want to be and we had a deal so _stop apologizing_. Plus, the rest of your family is kind of great. Your dad…he’s hilariously amazing.”

“He is that, and thank God, he has always loved me for me.” Helena looked at Myka with a look Myka couldn’t quite place, it was at once content and blazingly insecure, “You’re sure you’re alright being here?”

“I am more than sure.”

They stayed like that for longer than Myka could place. It was probably all of a handful of seconds, but it felt like they’d frozen there, ensconced in Helena’s childhood bedroom, Myka’s hand on her back, Helena leaning slightly against her. Myka wasn’t sure which one of them moved first, who tilted which way, who slid closer, all she knew was that Helena’s lips were on hers and she was positive she could no longer breathe. 

It started as a mere nothing of a thing, a tentative meeting of breath, Helena’s lips barely brushing against hers, but mere nothingness quickly shifted into something that was distinctly _not nothing_. Helena shifted until she was entirely flush up against Myka’s side, one hand coming up to tangle with the curls at the base of Myka’s skull. Myka’s fingers flexed against Helena’s back at the slight tug of the fingers in her hair, her throat fighting a losing battle at stifling the sound of pleasure that was rising from it as Helena’s tongue slipped into her mouth. 

They lingered there, lost in each other, for long, breathless moments; fingers twisted in curls, nails tensing into pliant muscles, pulses pounding in their ears, lips barely coming apart only to return together quickly. It was only as Myka’s hand almost unconsciously found itself toying at the hem of Helena’s skirt that she made herself stop, pulling away with a rough sigh, her forehead resting against Helena’s, “We can’t do this…here.”

Myka actually heard Helena gulp, heard the way her tongue chased over her lips, heard the deep breath that she took in and let out slowly, “You are extremely, intoxicatingly attractive, do you know that?”

Myka chuckled softly, “It’s not something I’m particularly used to hearing…”

“You are,” Helena said firmly, pulling back to look directly at Myka as she said it. “It’s been wildly distracting all night.”

“That would be a feeling that is entirely mutual…” Myka leaned back in daring to place a light kiss against the underside of Helena’s jaw, reveling in the way that it made Helena’s fingers clinch against her thigh.

Helena sighed heavily, leaning into Myka’s touch, “I would much rather stay up here…see where this… _leads_ us…”

Myka pulled back, smiling a bit crookedly.

“That, right there, do not do that or we’ll never leave this room,” Helena blurted out.

“Do what?”

“You have a particular way of smiling when you’re nervous, I’ve noticed. It’s…again, distracting.”

“Since we’re not apologizing anymore, I will simply strive to stop smiling,” Myka said and then proceeded to immediately fail at said goal. “While this, right here, is an infinitely preferable situation to be in, we can’t exactly leave your family downstairs.”

“Agreed.” Helena stood, offering a hand to Myka, “To be continued?”

Myka couldn’t stop herself from purposely offering Helena the smile Myka knew she had been referring to, “I would hope so.”

**

“Alright, Hel, spill.” 

Helena and Charles were out on the back patio in the utterly frigid air, all so Charles could enjoy a post-dinner cigar without disturbing anyone else with the smoke. He had practically dragged Helena outside with him, refusing to hear her protestations at leaving Myka alone with the rest of the family.

“Spill what exactly?”

Charles rolled his eyes, “ _Spill what exactly_. Jesus, Hel, you can’t possibly think you’re fooling me with this.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Helena cleared the back railing of snow and leaned her elbows against it, refusing to turn and meet Charles’ gaze.

“There is no way on God’s bloody creation that if you were _actually_ dating someone as remarkably perfect for you as Myka is that you wouldn’t have told me for _three months!_ You forget that I’ve known you my entire life and know that you are simply not capable of keeping that kind of secret.”

Helena knew that any sort of protest would sound weak and entirely false. She should have known better than to think she would be able to pull one over on Charles; he knew her too well. She gave him a despairing look, unable to find anything to say, she only shrugged, nodding her agreement to his assessment of the situation.

“Who is she? Please tell me that you aren’t _paying_ this woman.”

“Bloody Christ, Charlie, no!” Helena turned to lean against the railing, fingers kneading at her forehead, “I _did not_ plan this. It just sort of happened…”

“How? How does it sort of happen that you end up bringing a complete stranger to Christmas dinner?”

“She came into the clinic tonight, purely by chance. She was passing through town and her dog got sick. I checked him out and then refused to let her pay. She was insistent, I said I would consider payment in the form of her having dinner with me.”

“And you didn’t tell her it was _family Christmas dinner?_ ” Charles sounded aghast and a little impressed, though whether it was at Helena’s deception or at Myka’s willingness to have dinner with a complete stranger, Helena couldn’t tell.

“I told her once we were almost here.”

“And she just went along with it?”

“Indeed.”

“God… _marry her_.”

“Charlie…”

“I’m serious, Hel. A woman like that? She’s clearly brilliant, she’s blindingly attractive, she’s kind, she clearly thinks the same of you, _and_ she just went along with this little plan of yours? Marry. Her.”

Helena didn’t say anything for long moments, instead choosing to pull her flask out from where she had snuck it into her coat pocket and drank deeply. Eventually, she looked at Charles tentatively and whispered, “You really think she’s perfect for me?”

“Complete stranger or not, I do.” Charles tugged the flask from Helena’s grasp and took a drink of his own, shivering slightly at the strength of it. “Bloody hell, Hel, you are so screwed.”

**

The night ended rather quickly and unceremoniously after Charles and Helena returned from the porch. Zoe was having a hard time remaining awake on the couch, and Helena’s mother had retreated into an icy silence that was starting to wear on everyone. 

Helena’s father walked all four of them to the door, bestowing a Christmas hug and kiss on each of them. Myka was a bit surprised at how quickly she reciprocated the tightness with which Helena’s father held her, but there was something that felt particularly _safe, comforting_ about him and how kind he had been all night. 

Joe gave Myka one more squeeze, whispering, “Please do not be a stranger, Myka.”

For the first time all night, Myka felt a pang of guilt at her and Helena’s deception, that all of this would most likely just end with Helena having to tell her family that it didn’t work out between them, and Myka would simply never see them again. A feeling of regret followed quickly after the guilt; despite the awkwardness with Helena’s mother, Myka had enjoyed herself tonight, immensely. 

Their drive back was a bit quieter than before, but somehow it didn’t leave Myka feeling unsettled or uncertain. It was comfortable, contented, like they didn’t actually need to say anything to enjoy being together, sharing this small space. Myka tried to keep her mind from wandering in any direction that it wanted to go, from those few moments up in Helena’s old room to what exactly happened _next_. Her mind was simultaneously utterly blank and completely riotous on that front, because clearly there was something _here_ , but what? It made precisely zero sense that somehow the random vet whose office she stumbled into on Christmas Eve could end up being… _someone_ , someone very much not random, someone very much not easily forgotten, someone who might just end up being everything. Yet, Myka wasn’t sure if she was reading more into the situation than was there. Maybe their moment in the bedroom was nothing more than emotions running high and Helena needing comfort. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was everything other than what Myka thought it was…immense and unrelenting attraction with seemingly amazing potential.

Once they got back to Helena’s house, that’s when the awkwardness seemed like it was going to settle in. They walked with slow pacing up the front walk, both stealing glances at the other and immediately looking away before they caught each other’s eye. Getting in the house provided distraction enough, with both of the dogs immediately greeting them with wagging tails and demands for treats. Myka was relieved to find Trailer acting much more like himself, circling her ankles and pawing at her knees. 

While Helena went into the kitchen to get both of the dogs food, Myka knelt down in front of Trailer soothing her mind by running her fingers through the downy hair along his ears. She leaned her forehead against his, “This has been the strangest night, bud. Did you have a good time with Dickens?”

Trailer responded by promptly licking Myka’s nose.

Dancing, lilting laughter floated into Myka’s ears from behind her. “Someone seems like he’s feeling better.”

Myka looked over her shoulder with a grateful smile, “He does…thankfully.”

“A good night’s sleep and he’ll be back on his feet.”

_Sleep. Shit, where were we going to sleep?_

Myka stood quickly, palm rubbing along the back of her next, “I completely forgot that I still need to find a hotel for tonight.”

“Myka…” Helena’s voice dipped a few notches lower than usual, stepping fully into Myka’s space. She opened her mouth as if to say something else, but then thought better of it. Instead, she cupped her hands against Myka’s jaw and drew her down into a tentative kiss, slow enough to let Myka rediscover her footing. She only pulled away once she felt the muscles beneath her fingers release a bit of their tension. “To be continued, remember?”

Heat flared into Myka’s cheeks, her mouth immediately gone dry at the prospect of what those words meant.

Helena smirked, “Myka…stay. Please.” She sighed softly, “And no, I am not asking for any untoward reason, but simply because Trailer seems settled here for the night, and I know of no hotels within a twenty mile radius of here besides bed and breakfasts that are going to be booked with tourists. _Stay_. I have a guest room if…”

Myka halted Helena’s cavalcade of words by pulling her in by the hips and kissing her hard. There was something about Helena, who seemed to be fairly unflappable, rambling that brought Myka’s uncertainty back from the brink and onto solid ground. She shifted so she could speak right against Helena’s lips, “Talk to me more about these _untoward reasons…_ ”

A throaty chuckle emerged from Helena, hitting Myka right in the gut, “Darling…if we spent time _talking_ about all the untoward things I have had in my head about you from pretty much the moment I saw you tonight, we’d never actually _get_ to the untoward things.”

“Then _show me…_ ”

It was a slow, meandering shuffle up the stairs to Helena’s bedroom, each of them too distracted by the other to keep themselves from stopping for brief interludes in order to remove another article of clothing, explore a newly exposed patch of skin. By the time they actually made it to Helena’s bed, Myka wasn’t sure she was going to actually be able to keep herself from, plain and simple, _begging_ Helena to just get on with it.

Thankfully, Helena seemed as desperate as she was, and so the first initial rush led quickly into the first initial exploration of hands and fingers and tongues, each of them pushing and pulling the other to the brink fast enough to leave them winded and sweaty far faster than either of them would have liked. 

“God,” Myka sighed, rolling onto her back as Helena purposely curled around her, fingers dancing along Myka’s ribs. “If you had told me when I walked in tonight that this is where I would find myself by the end of the night, I would have said you were out of your mind.”

“Complaints?” Helena asked against the side of Myka’s breast.

“None. None whatsoever. It’s just…” Myka’s words floated off into nothingness.

Helena propped herself up on an elbow, “It’s just what, darling?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing. Forget I started that sentence.”

“ _Never_.”

“Ugh, _fine_. It’s just…these sorts of things, they don’t generally happen to me. I’m not…”

Helena leaned down and kissed Myka fiercely, “ _That_ is a sentence I am going to forget you started, because I have a feeling it’s going to be followed by a lot of self-deprecating comments that I will have to refute, and,” her fingers trailed a delicate dance down Myka’s abdomen, “I am much more interested in _other_ uses of my time at the moment.”

“Has anyone ever told you that you’re slightly maddening?” Myka teased.

“All the time, but again I ask…complaints?”

Myka’s breath caught in her throat as Helena’s hand dipped lower, but she was still able to stumble out the one syllable necessary to answer Helena’s question, “None.”

The rest of the night was a hazy cascade of fast and slow, tentative and fiercely focused, of wandering hands and exploring lips. When they finally collapsed with the need to sleep it was long after midnight. Once again, Helena curled into Myka’s shoulder, Myka’s fingers tracing up and down her spine. Myka kissed Helena’s forehead lightly, “Merry Christmas.”

“To you as well, darling.” Helena nestled closer, whispering, “I’m glad you stayed.”

“Me too…me too,” Myka said contentedly right before she fell happily into the arms of sleep.

**

Myka hadn’t intended it, in fact she had completely planned on getting up and letting Helena get on with whatever her Christmas Day plans were, but somehow that never happened. It started with Helena’s simple offer to make them breakfast, which somehow evolved into an entire day spent on the couch, huddled between the dogs, alternately watching Christmas movies, reading books, and continuing where they had left off the night before. 

Before Myka knew where the day had gone they were back in Helena’s bed, curled together, each of them drifting in and out of sleep. 

Helena’s fingers twined around one of her curls, “So, you have to meet your boss tomorrow?”

“I do. The plan was for me to stay the day up there, he had invited me to have dinner with him and his wife, potentially stay there for the night in case it got late.” Myka looked up at Helena from where she had been reclining against Helena’s stomach, “Do you think Trailer will be ok in the car?”

Helena smiled gently, “He should be. We’ll make sure to give him his medicine well before you leave so it can get in his system.” Helena paused slightly, “You could…”

“I could…”

“Nevermind.”

“Nope, no way. You didn’t let me get away with trailed off sentences last night.”

Helena rolled her eyes, “Stubborn woman. I was going to say, if you would want…he could stay here while you go up. Save him…save him an added car ride.”

Myka smirked, “And then have to come back to pick him up…”

“A potentially positive side effect to that choice, yes.”

“You know…you could just ask me to come back…”

Helena licked her lips, teeth catching at the corner of her lip, “I know…I know I could. I was going to, _wanted_ to, but I wasn’t sure if that would seem forward or presumptuous. I wasn’t sure…well, I wasn’t sure of many things I suppose.”

Myka sat up allowing her to look directly into Helena’s eyes. She slid her fingers along Helena’s jaw, leaving a small kiss to her lips before she spoke, “First of all, asking me to come back is where you draw the line of forward and presumptuous? Not inviting me to family dinner?”

Helena chuckled softly, “Don’t ask me how my mind works, darling.”

“I’ll bear that in mind. Anyway, let me try to clear up some of those not sure’s. I _want_ to come back, and I am well aware that that seems crazy, because I am just some person that stumbled into your life by completely random chance, but…but despite the fact that I am not the kind of person that takes these kinds of risks, I’m willing to take the chance that there’s something here, something more than just some one night stand or a deal made about dinner.”

“All of this…it could be complicated, Myka.”

“Completely, but I’m not willing to let complicated get in the way of something that feels like it could make me really happy.”

Helena smile was so brilliant, Myka could see every ounce of it even in the darkness of the bedroom. “You’re quite a remarkable woman, Myka Bering.”

“As we’ve established, I’m stubborn, particularly about things that make me happy.” Myka paused, considering, and then turned a questioning look to Helena, “How about this? I’m off the rest of the week. How about I come back here to pick up Trailer, and we…we take a few more days together and see where that takes us?”

“I think that sounds slightly saner than diving straight into family dinner.”

“Well, no one can ever accuse of us of not getting off to an interesting start.”

“True.” Helena’s fingers toyed with Myka’s, “And after the few days? What then?”

Myka smirked, “I think we already have that answer figured out. It’s the one we gave your parents after all.”  
Helena’s brow furrowed in question. Myka chuckled, “How do alternate weekends sound?”

At that point, Helena was beaming, “Alternate weekends sound perfect.”

“Perfection it is then.” Myka leaned down and kissed Helena again, this time with a bit more force.

Helena pulled Myka on top of her, fingers trailing through her curls, “This has by far been the strangest, happiest Christmas I have ever had.”

Myka grinned, “Agreed, but,” she placed a kiss to the hollow of Helena’s throat, “what do you say we end this Christmas the way it deserves.”

“Oh darling…that might just be the best idea we’ve had yet.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again, Merry Christmas, Happy Holidays, and a wonderful New Year to all of you <3


End file.
